


(written in the stars)

by GhostsandGhouls



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostsandGhouls/pseuds/GhostsandGhouls
Summary: Akaashi Keiji, by anyone’s standards, was not a person who fell in love easily.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 163
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2019





	(written in the stars)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tsu_kei_shima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsu_kei_shima/gifts).



> Big thanks to [elo](https://elo-kodon.tumblr.com) & shay for beta reading this fic!<3

Akaashi Keiji, by anyone’s standards, was not a person who fell in love easily. He couldn’t count on two hands the amount of people who’d confessed over the years, and yet, he shot every single one of them down. Of course, none of that had been about love in his opinion. A stupid high-school crush, maybe, but not love.

It’s what he always thought of his own situation—his own high-school crush. It was probably obvious enough, Bokuto Koutarou was the biggest star at Fukurodani. Everyone liked him and he was amazing at volleyball. He’d helped them win nationals in his final year before graduating—Akaashi would say he’d led them to victory, and Bokuto...Wonderful, amazing Bokuto, would insist it was a team effort. He would insist that Akaashi’s toss had allowed him to spike down the winning point.

Of course it was true. Akaashi knew that one single person couldn’t win a volleyball match alone. But sometimes, it seemed like Bokuto could, and he’d make it look easy. Slowly, Akaashi’s high-school crush developed into something else entirely.

That happened easily. It was like a sakura tree blooming in the spring. A small bud, a flicker of butterflies in Akaashi’s torso. Then a small bloom—his heart beating a touch faster every time Bokuto shone on the court. Finally, the flower. It sprang to life, at the beginning of Akaashi’s second year in university, when his head caught up and he faced the truth. It did start out as a high-school crush, admiration for someone so spectacular, his senpai who never treated him as someone lesser.

It was far beyond Akaashi’s control now. He could only let the feelings fill his body, to the very core.

Akaashi still didn’t know what to do about it. Bokuto was the singular steady part of his otherwise hectic life. Between classes, volleyball practice and a part-time job, Akaashi rarely had time to relax. That came easily with Bokuto, whether they were studying or having lunch, it always felt like a weight had been lifted and he could allow himself a small moment of calm—a calm that Bokuto brought to him.

He left the feelings alone, simmering in his stomach. They were friends and teammates; Akaashi couldn’t allow his feelings to spill over. Bokuto was the type of ace who relied on his setter. Akaashi needed a clear mind. Kuroo, Bokuto’s annoying roommate, made that hard though. He was a pain in the ass who smirked at Akaashi any time he got the chance.

Kuroo knew, that much was obvious. He always made little comments whenever they had a second alone and Akaashi could only roll his eyes. He wondered if Oikawa’s influence had made things worse. It was hard to separate the two since they started dating, and Akaashi was grateful that Oikawa was at a different university. He could only imagine what the two were like when they were together.

Every practice made Akaashi feel slightly on edge and today was no different.

Bokuto vanishes to retrieve a stray ball, and a hand gently claps Akaashi’s back. “You could just tell him.”

One look at Kuroo told Akaashi that feigning ignorance wasn’t going to work, “Kuroo-san, perhaps you should focus on something else.”

“Ah. Akaashi, you wound me.”

“If you say so, Kuroo-san.”

Bokuto returns moments later. He grins at the two of them and holds up the volleyball.

“Good job Koutarou.” Kuroo pats Bokuto’s back, smirking when Akaashi shoots him a quick glare. Bokuto misses it and they return to practice. Akaashi grins when his side wins the three on three the coach put together and Kuroo frowns in response.

After clean-up, they head out together and meet up with Oikawa (who makes sure to meet up with Kuroo after practice whenever he’s not studying). Akaashi feels a little uncomfortable watching the way Kuroo and Oikawa cuddle up together, their hands joined in a twist of fingers. He wonders what Bokuto’s hand feels like, how warm his hand might feel cradled in Bokuto’s large hand...Akaashi shakes his head, knowing he’s thinking too much now—about Bokuto’s hand at his cheek, about sharing a kiss goodbye (or more). Hopefully a hello kiss... **Any** kind of kiss.

He glances away as Oikawa bids goodnight to Kuroo and is faced with Bokuto’s gaze instead. Akaashi’s mouth goes dry and he doesn’t know if there’s anything he could say. He smiles. It’s a little awkward and he knows it, but Bokuto smiles back anyway.

“Alright, lovebirds.”

Kuroo’s words snap their heads back around, and Akaashi’s left gaping in surprise. Kuroo grabs Bokuto’s arm and drags him toward their dorm, “Goodnight Akaashi!” Bokuto’s face is a little red and for a moment, Akaashi’s heart-rate spikes. Then he realises the chill in the air—when had it gotten so cold?—and he rushes into his own dorm.

* * *

Akaashi can’t shake the image of Bokuto’s red cheeks. He finds himself thinking about it more often than not. He’d already convinced himself that it was only the cold, but he can’t stop thinking about the possibility that Bokuto had been _blushing_ at Kuroo’s words. At them being called lovebirds. The wording had shocked Akaashi, but letting it sink in was, if he was willing to admit it to himself, kind of nice. He liked being called that. If it was him and Bokuto, it was fine.

He wanted everyone to see them that way, but he knew Kuroo was just teasing him, probably his way of revenge. It was a little annoying. Akaashi was only getting more attached to Bokuto. Every practice, every match, when they’d meet up for lunch or to study, his heart soared and he found himself noticing more about Bokuto. Like the way he’d poke his tongue out when he was focused, when he’d get frustrated and mess up his hair with a quick furrow from his hands and, most importantly, how breath-taking his eyes were up close. If Akaashi didn’t already know Bokuto, he’d have said they were brown from a distance, but there was no mistaking the hazel flecks, almost giving the appearance of gold.

It always left Akaashi scatterbrained and there’d been moments when Bokuto had to gently shake his shoulder to grab his attention. He’d managed to play it off as trying to solve an equation in his head and Bokuto grinned in reply—Akaashi’s main weakness. He’d learned that the first time they’d met, but now it seemed to be on high-alert and, most of the time, his breath would falter for a moment. 

Their routine was easy. Akaashi could see why Kuroo had easily called them lovebirds, even if it had been teasing. Bokuto would meet Akaashi at the end of the day and they’d make their way to the volleyball club together on practice days; to the library together on study days; or back to the dorms on a rare free day. Bokuto would always say goodnight with a soft pat to Akaashi’s back and it was no longer a surprise, like it had been the first time. They’d always meet up for lunch too. If Bokuto wasn’t waiting outside of Akaashi’s classroom, he’d be waiting at the cafeteria hall. Most of the time, Kuroo would join them, but there were times he’d head out to meet up with Oikawa (and, occasionally, Daishou) and only typically walked back with them after volleyball practice.

Akaashi was sure his heart would give out one of these days. He’d even gotten distracted a few times during practice and had once sent a volleyball flying straight into someone’s face—it thankfully hadn’t been Kuroo, who would have never stopped talking about it, but he’d still had to give his sincerest apologies to his upperclassmen and to the coach.

He’s glad it never interferes with an official match. He wouldn’t ever recover from that embarrassment and he wouldn’t even try to excuse it as an off-day. They’re easily one of the top contenders; not even Ushijima’s (sparkly new, top of the range—Kuroo had commented) team had beaten them and they’ll be meeting Oikawa’s team soon. Akaashi wonders how much of an issue Daishou will be, though Kuroo had said he’s mellowed out and actually grown up since high-school—it probably helps having Oikawa as a roommate, since he’d make anyone want to be at the top of their game, with their natural talent.

The coach and the captain don’t seem worried about them either, having glossed over them. Akaashi trusted his team, and he trusted Bokuto, to get them through. He wasn’t playing, the team having voted for the third-year setter for that particular match and it hurt Akaashi, but he knew they’d made a better choice. He couldn’t be sure if he’d be able to assure them victory while he’s so unfocused. Akaashi stays back late, practising his tosses with Bokuto and a first year who seems eager to become like Bokuto.

Then Bokuto begins to dip off.

At first it’s only once a week, to finish his assignments, then it’s every practice; he always leaves early, the first out of the door and Akaashi’s heart aches in wake of the change. Even Kuroo stopped joking about it after the fourth consecutive week, he now offers Akaashi a sympathetic smile.

It isn’t the only change to the routine; Bokuto doesn’t meet up for lunch anymore, and if they do end up eating together, it’s once a week, if Akaashi is lucky enough—Bokuto doesn’t wait outside his classroom anymore either and it’s becoming harder for Akaashi to stomach. His tosses are lacking more and more. He hasn’t played a game in weeks; the most he gets are the usual three on three's during volleyball practice.

Akaashi wonders if Bokuto has even noticed.

If he even cares.

Bokuto’s getting along well enough with the third-year setter and Akaashi can’t even watch them anymore.

After a month, Akaashi doesn’t even show up for practice.

Kuroo’s waiting at his dorm one morning and Akaashi is a little surprised to see he’s alone; he usually always walks with Bokuto.

“Kuroo-san, is something wrong?” He almost asks if Bokuto is okay, but the words shrivel in his mouth and he bites them back down. It leaves acid on his tongue.

“Why aren’t you coming to practice? The team is worried.”

Akaashi doesn’t doubt that, they’re all close. But dread fills him, that the statement doesn’t include Bokuto. He doesn’t want to ask, “I’m sorry for leaving without notice, but I doubt you’re suffering. I’m off my game-” He takes a breath. He’s been thinking about it, but it still doesn’t feel right—it hurts. “-I’m quitting.”

“Is this because of Bokuto?”

“No,” Kuroo’s face is a thousand words. Akaashi doesn’t need to hear it, he knows Kuroo doesn’t believe him, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while-” _He hasn’t_. “-I’m useless. I don’t play like I used to and I don’t need anyone to tell me that—I don’t want them thinking that.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Kuroo says, obviously ignoring Akaashi’s reluctance to talk about Bokuto, “but you’re a great player. We all know that.” There’s a pause, and Akaashi is almost afraid of breathing. He doesn’t know what Kuroo is thinking—what he’s planning to say. Then, finally, “It’s worse now you’re gone. He misses almost every kill and he’s always down, no-one can bring him out of it. It’s only you.”

“Oh.” Akaashi gapes—He definitely hadn’t expected that.

“Please show up tomorrow.”

Akaashi watches Kuroo go. He knows he needs to leave too, he’ll end up being late for class, but his legs won’t move. He can’t shake Kuroo’s words. When he finally moves, he makes it in time with seconds to spare.

* * *

Akaashi arrives at practice, as he normally would. As he **should** have been for the past few weeks. The coach talks to him in private and it’s better than he thought. He manages to pass it off as personal issues, and the team welcomes him back with open arms. Then Akaashi sees Bokuto, and his heart jumps, like it’s been laying dormant while they haven’t been seeing each other.

“Akaashi...You came?”

It sounds like a question and Akaashi smiles—his heart thumps loudly in his ears; there’s hope Bokuto did miss him, “Kuroo-san asked me.”

Bokuto nods. He looks a little surprised and shoots a look at Kuroo who just grins back. They get back into practice as normal and the ball feels a little strange in Akaashi’s hand, but he still sends it easily over the net.

He gets into position when the ball returns back over. Akaashi doesn’t have to look, he knows—he _feels_ that Bokuto is there, and it’s the best toss he’s set all year (maybe that he’s **ever** set). Bokuto easily slams it over the net and the other side looks bewildered.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Akaashi, that was amazing.”

Akaashi certainly doesn’t expect Bokuto to scoop him up into a hug. He can feel his face turning bright red, “Bokuto-san?!”

“S-sorry,” And he drops Akaashi back to his feet, “It’s been a while. I missed hitting your tosses.” Akaashi definitely doesn’t miss the blush on Bokuto’s cheeks. His heart swells but before he can think too much of it, someone on the other side is shouting _come on_. Akaashi returns to the service line and takes a deep breath, “One more, Akaashi.” Bokuto’s mutter is loud enough for Akaashi to hear.

They only play to fifteen points and Akaashi is exhausted by the end. He knows he should have been keeping in shape even though he wasn’t playing—the point margin is more than enough and it clearly shows they won by a land-slide. His hands are buzzing and Bokuto is grinning, slapping his teammates on their backs. Akaashi has stared at Bokuto a hundred times but this one feels special.

Bokuto looks like a weight has lifted from his shoulders and when he asks for more tosses, Akaashi can’t refuse. He feels as light as a feather. He throws as many tosses as Bokuto wants before they finally retire for the night. They clean up and then slowly walk back towards the dorms.

“Akaashi?” Akaashi turns to Bokuto with a soft hum. His eyes flicker up to the stars and Akaashi can see the reflection clearly, like staring into an untouched lake. “I’m sorry.”

Akaashi could brush it off, he knows he could. He could pretend that he hadn’t been hurt by the way Bokuto had suddenly pushed him away. “Yeah—” But he won’t, it’s not fair to either one of them to pretend that none of it happened. “Me too.”

“What?” Bokuto’s eyes flicker back to Akaashi—his mouth goes dry, but he doesn’t feel embarrassed having been caught staring. “Why are you sorry? I pushed you away, I was a terrible friend and a terrible teammate,” he sighs and fists his hair—frustration that Akaashi knows well enough by now. “Tetsurou said I was being stupid. And I was!” He reaches out, gently grasping one of Akaashi’s hands. Bokuto’s hands aren't soft and Akaashi hadn’t expected them to be; years of volleyball would take its toll. But they’re warm. It’s a vast comparison to the cold air around them. “I shouldn’t have acted like that and you don’t have to forgive me for it. I won’t expect you to.”

Bokuto’s letting go and it’s too soon. Akaashi grips onto him, and there’s a look of surprise on Bokuto’s face, his cheeks are a little pink—Akaashi is certain it isn’t the cold this time, if it had even been that before. “Koutarou-” It’s strange saying Bokuto’s given name, but the syllables fall easily from Akaashi’s lips. Like it’s an art he’s mastered. “-I don’t think you’re stupid,” _He never has_ , “I don’t know what happened. I thought it was me, I haven’t been playing the best—”

“That’s not true!” Bokuto’s voice seems to surprise both of them. Akaashi still won’t let go of Bokuto’s hand, he wants to thread their fingers together and see if they fit—if it will feel like finishing a forgotten puzzle. “I think you’re amazing. I-” Bokuto looks like he’s considering something. Maybe Bokuto is choosing his words? Maybe it’s more, and Akaashi’s heart is thundering in his chest. “I was jealous.”

Akaashi doesn’t know how to feel now. He hadn’t expected that. He searches his brain, trying to think of why Bokuto would ever be jealous of him. Akaashi comes up with nothing, he should probably just ask. It’s getting late, they need to sleep, but he doesn’t want to let Bokuto go—and maybe he’s selfish, he doesn’t want anyone else to toss to Bokuto.

_Oh_. Akaashi remembers the first-year wing spiker, how he was clearly aiming to be the next Bokuto and only ever asked Akaashi to set for him. He never asked the other setter, not once. It dawns on Akaashi, like a wave crashing against rocks.

He bursts with laughter and Bokuto looks stunned. He was struggling to get his hand back now, his face is turning downward but Akaashi still doesn’t let him go. “Koutarou, I like you.” Bokuto stops moving and Akaashi wonders if he’s still breathing. “I don’t want anyone else to be your setter. I only ever want it to be me, and I don’t want anyone else to hold your hand.” He squeezes Bokuto’s hand, it’s a gentle touch, like Akaashi might break him. The air itself is still now. Akaashi won’t hold back any longer. “I love you. As my ace, as my friend...As a boyfriend.”

“Keiji,” His name is smooth but Akaashi still lets his hand fall from Bokuto’s. He’s worried it’s a mistake, that he’s over-stepped. That Bokuto doesn’t feel the same. There’s warmth at his cheek— _Bokuto’s hand_ , and Akaashi looks up to meet his beautiful eyes, he’s sure the stars are still swimming there. “I love you too.”

Akaashi feels everything at once. A warmth bursting in his chest—soft lips on his own. There’s no spark, like the TV shows say, it feels more like returning home—it feels like he’s meant to be here, that Bokuto’s lips were carved to match his own. It’s easy kissing Bokuto, it doesn’t feel awkward; Akaashi’s never had any practice, and he’s not sure about Bokuto. Maybe this isn’t his first and he’s taking Akaashi’s...It doesn’t seem to matter, Akaashi is certain that this was always meant to happen.

Bokuto shifts slightly and their noses bump together. They both pull away with a soft groan. “Sorry.” Bokuto's blushing and Akaashi runs his thumb over Bokuto’s bottom lip, it’s soft. “Can we try again?”

Akaashi feels himself nod and their lips meet again. His arms loop around Bokuto’s neck and he leans into the contact. It’s easier now. Bokuto’s arms wrap around Akaashi’s waist and he holds him close.

They kiss, watched only by the stars.


End file.
